


Good for You

by BansheeLydia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Ficlet, Fluff, Future Fic, Intercrural Sex, Lingerie, M/M, Power Bottom Jackson, Spanking, Stockings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 22:43:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6169534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BansheeLydia/pseuds/BansheeLydia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If the sight alone of his boyfriend half naked and waiting for him didn’t have Stiles’ mouth watering, what Jackson was wearing definitely did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good for You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Inell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/gifts).



> this is just pure filth, some PWP for the prompt 'Stiles/Jackson-Lingerie and stockings'.

It was late and Stiles was exhausted.

He’d worked a double shift at the store and his body ached, feet throbbing in his shoes. He wanted to order in some takeout, cuddle with his boyfriend, and just sleep for maybe twelve hours. When he got in, though, the apartment was dark and Jackson wasn’t sprawled on the couch like he normally was when Stiles got home.

Sometimes, he did go to the gym in the evening, so Stiles figured he’d be greeted later by a sweaty, exhausted Jackson, which was actually a nicer thought that it sounded. He dropped his keys onto the coffee table and headed into the kitchen, flicking on the light. There was a plate waiting for him on the table and he smiled, surprised at the sweet gesture.

The food turned out to be fish fingers and fries, which generally was about as far as Jackson’s cooking skills stretched; Stiles heated it up and sat down at the table to eat. His eyelids felt like lead so he justified leaving the dishes in the sink to wash up in the morning, dragging his tired body to the bedroom.

He snapped on the light and stopped short. 

Jackson was sprawled on the bed, legs casually spread and one arm underneath his head, looking nonchalant and beautiful, and if the sight alone of his boyfriend half naked and waiting for him didn’t have Stiles’ mouth watering, what Jackson was wearing definitely did; black lace underwear and sleek, scalloped edged stockings. They clung to his muscled thighs, the dark material so stunning against his skin, and Stiles bit back a groan, instantly awake, cock twitching in his pants.

Jackson was already hard, the head of his cock visible above the hem of the underwear, and he stroked it idly, gaze half lidded as he looked at Stiles. He gave a lazy smirk, like he knew how fucking unfairly gorgeous he was, the asshole.

“Get over here,” he said, all firm and husky and _fuck_ , Stiles couldn’t move quick enough.

He toed off his shoes, kicking them aside, and struggled with his jeans as he crossed the room, stumbling and hopping on one foot at one point, and Jackson raised an eyebrow, totally judging him. He fumbled with the buttons on his shirt before getting impatient and ripping it off over his head, arms getting stuck for a frustrating minute before he freed himself. When he could see Jackson again, the jerk was laughing at him.

“You’re such a loser,” he said fondly. 

Stiles huffed, folding his arms. “You want to fuck your own hand tonight?” he replied easily, grinning when Jackson’s gaze dropped to where Stiles was tenting his boxers and he licked his lips. “Didn’t think so, buddy.”

He climbed onto the bed, crawling over Jackson’s body to kiss him softly. It was always good, coming home to Jackson, and he took a moment to just nuzzle his boyfriend, content. Jackson’s lips curved into a smile against Stiles’ temple and he pressed a gentle kiss there before giving an impatient roll of his hips.

Stiles laughed and shifted down the bed, stroking his hands slowly up Jackson’s calves and thighs, feeling the silky material beneath his fingertips. The stockings felt so good against Jackson’s firm muscles and Stiles lay down to skim his lips over them. When he got to the top, he gripped the edge between his teeth, tugging before he let go with a satisfying _snap_ against Jackson’s skin.

Jackson hissed, hand sliding into Stiles’ hair to give a sharp tug. “Don’t rip them,” he said, voice rougher, thick with arousal. “Or you can pay for them.”

“Like you can’t afford new ones, asshole,” Stiles shot back. 

He felt the strip of thigh visible, kneading strong muscle, before moving his hands up, thumbs tucking under the edge of the underwear. He leaned forward, testing how the lace felt underneath his mouth; he let his tongue press against the thin material, soaking it through as he traced Jackson’s hard cock and his boyfriend groaned, legs spreading wider, other hand gripping Stiles’ hair now, urging him on. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” Stiles muttered, running his nose along Jackson’s shaft before sitting back. “Roll over.”

Jackson gave his best bitch face back, but obliged, rolling onto his front. The underwear turned out to be a thong and Stiles bit back a moan at the sight of Jackson’s firm ass cheeks and the strip of cloth between them. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he accused, leaned down to sink his teeth into one pert cheek, savoring the hissed curse and the way Jackson’s hips bucked in response. “But what a way to go.”

He snapped the small strip of material, liked the line of red it left against Jackson’s skin, then pushed it aside to run a dry thumb over Jackson’s hole. He pressed back in response and Stiles slid up Jackson’s body, tugging his earlobe between his teeth as he teased Jackson’s rim with his thumb.

“You want it?” he asked softly. Jackson’s hair brushed against his face when he nodded and he smiled, teeth scraping sharply over Jackson’s earlobe as he delivered a sharp smack to his ass. “ _Work for it_.”

Jackson released a string of colorful curses that made Stiles grin as he sat back. Jackson’s ass was red where his palm had connected and Stiles always loved how gorgeous it looked. His boyfriend shifted up onto his hands and knees, ass rubbing against Stiles’ erection, and he arched his back, muscles working as he ground his ass back in lazy circles, teasing Stiles’ cock.

He was always so fucking good like this. Jackson was the definition of a power bottom; knew how to work Stiles’ dick so fucking perfectly until he gave him what he wanted, hard and rough, hand in Jackson’s hair pinning him down and hips snapping, flesh slapping together. He rocked back like he was fucking himself on Stiles’ cock now, only the thin material of Stiles’ boxers separating them. 

“Fuck,” Stiles gritted out, so hard he was aching, the front of his boxers damp with precome. “ _Jax_.”

When Stiles gently pushed him back down, Jackson went easily, but he reached out, capturing Stiles’ hand. He brought it to his mouth, brushing a sweet kiss to the palm, and Stiles smiled, reaching over to the nightstand to grab the bottle of lube.

He got Jackson settled on his side, slicking his thighs with lube, above the stockings and just underneath his ass. Jackson caught on and parted his legs enough to give Stiles access. He got his cock nice and wet, and slid between Jackson’s thighs, bodies slotting together in a filthy approximation of spooning. 

He mouthed at Jackson’s neck as he started to move, fucking between his thighs. It was slick and tight and perfect and he stopped trying to hold back his moans, already so close to the edge. With every thrust, his cock bumped against Jackson’s balls, and his boyfriend almost trembled with his need. 

Stiles dipped his hand underneath Jackson’s underwear, stroking him firmly in sync with the snap of his hips, and Jackson came first, swearing breathlessly as hot come spilled between Stiles’ fingers. His thighs clenched with his orgasm and Stiles couldn’t hold back, moan muffled against Jackson’s sweat damp back as come splashed over Jackson’s thighs.

He lay there for a while, chest heaving, body heavy and sated. It was Jackson who spoke first, shifting slightly to glare at his boyfriend.

“You got spunk on my stockings.”

Stiles wheezed out a laugh, looking at his come on the silky material. “I’ll buy you new ones, babe.”

He pulled away, grabbing his shirt off the floor to clean them both off, which would be incredibly gross when they woke up and had to deal with both that and the come in Jackson’s underwear, but fuck it.

Jackson stripped both the stockings and the underwear off, spent dick hanging between his legs as he gripped Stiles’ hips and dragged him closer, rearranging them until Stiles was the big spoon again, lips pressed against Jackson’s neck. He pulled the sheets over them with a yawn.

“Night, Jax,” he said softly, and he sensed rather than saw Jackson’s answering smile.

“Night, asshole.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna go take a shower to wash away my sins.
> 
> allirica.tumblr.com - feel free to come say hi or send me a prompt :)


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